


The Three Body Problem shorts

by kisahawklin



Series: The Three Body Problem [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anniversary, Beaches, Drunkenness, Hunter Retirement, M/M, Marshmallows, Multi, Sickfic, Taxes, Writing on Skin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:06:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4645053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scenes from their relationship through the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Property of Dean Winchester

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PaucaFideliter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaucaFideliter/gifts), [notsotameimpala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsotameimpala/gifts), [ayrdaomei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayrdaomei/gifts).



~~~

It's not the first time Sam's fallen asleep on one of them, but it's certainly the first time he's done it while falling down drunk.

Cas can't help smiling down at Sam despite the awkward dead weight on his chest. The Winchesters drink less now. It's good, Cas thinks, and he's glad they can find respite in something other than alcohol. It also means Sam has turned into a lightweight, so when he decides to really go for it (and Cas isn't sure what brought it on, maybe something to do with Dean's newly discovered patch of grey hair), it doesn't take much for him to go straight to hilariously frat party drunk.

Dean had a tumbler of whiskey to keep Sam company, but left half of it on the table when they'd moved over to the couch to watch movies. He'd been watching Sam with a cryptic little smile on his face the entire time, and Cas is going to kill him if he doesn't crack soon.

Once Sam is well and truly asleep, drooling on Cas's shirt, Dean gets off the couch and goes rummaging around in the library. He comes back in a moment later with a Sharpie. 

Cas doesn't understand what Dean's going to do, but he has a bad feeling Sam's going to be upset when he wakes up, and wonders if he should try to interfere.

"Dean," Cas says, more of a question than he would've liked. 

"Don’t worry, Cas," Dean says, crouching down in front of them and attacking Sam's face with the pen. When he pulls away enough for Cas to get a look, he's circled the corner of Sam's jaw and written "Property of Dean Winchester" on his neck, with an arrow.

~~~


	2. Hot Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas checks in with Sam as they come up on their fifth anniversary.

~~~

"Sam," Cas says, whittling the end of the tree branch down to a fine point.

"Yeah, Cas?"

"What do you want?"

Cas blows on the end of his stick and immediately stuffs two marshmallows onto it, sticking them into the fire pit and letting the flames lick at them dangerously.

Sam just shakes his head, holding his singular marshmallow well above the flames, browning it perfectly on all sides with infinite patience. "What do you mean?"

Cas shrugs. Sam's gotten used to asking for things, but Cas likes to check in every once in a while, make sure he and Dean aren't missing anything because Sam's so easy-going about what he wants. "With the three of us. Is there anything you want?"

Sam chuckles. "I don't think I could handle any more than I've got." Cas watches him carefully; sometimes Sam will laugh off a question and then brood on it for the next hour as he works himself into a froth.

Sam keeps toasting his marshmallow, slowly, checking over his shoulder for Dean. Cas knows it'll be at least another ten minutes before Dean's back with the beer and graham crackers, so he just settles back and watches Sam.

"It's coming up on five years," Sam says.

Cas hums in agreement. These arbitrary anniversaries mean much more to him now that he's been human long enough to feel the creak in his joints. "Should we celebrate?"

Two years ago, Dean came home on their third anniversary with a puppy. Cas likes the dog, but it was perfectly clear that she was Sam's dog from the very moment she set foot in the bunker. As if she can sense Cas's thoughts, Crash comes over, licking Cas's hand before turning to Sam for her more thorough pets. 

"I don't know," Sam says, but his face descends into thoughtfulness as Cas watches. He knows Sam is debating the idea and trying to decide whether or not he should do something; or maybe whether or not Dean would _want_ him to do something.

Cas remains silent, still toasting his marshmallows recklessly, letting them play in the flames. He knows that Sam will decide what to do and include Cas if he wants to. Cas doesn't need to remind him that he would be happy to participate. He doesn't have any suggestions, either, so he has nothing more to offer than his assistance, which he knows Sam is already sure of.

One of Cas's marshmallows catches and Sam chuckles as he blows on it desperately to keep the flames from turning the outside to ash. "That's what you get for being so cavalier with the fire."

Cas raises an eyebrow and meets Sam's eyes, holding them while he works the wasted marshmallow off his stick. Sam smiles at him, like he knows what Cas is doing, and sure enough, when Cas tries to attack his face with the marshmallow, Sam is ready for him and holds him at arm's length.

There's a reason Cas was known as the dirtiest fighter in the garrison, though, and he feints, pretending to fall so Sam grabs him to keep him upright, bringing his face in close in the process. Cas smears the marshmallow all over Sam's stubble, the stickiness catching in the rough hairs on his chin.

Payback is a specialty of Sam's though, and he reels Cas in to kiss him, getting the gooey mess all over Cas's face too.

"I think I'll get us rings," Sam says, and Cas nods, licking Sam's chin. "Don't tell Dean – I want it to be a surprise."

"Of course," Cas says, leaning in to kiss Sam again.

When Dean finds them making out ten minutes later, they make sure he's too close to change his mind before he sees the sticky mess all over them. Sam's perfectly toasted marshmallow ends up mostly in his mouth, somehow, but Cas's second marshmallow, mostly burnt to ash in the fire, ends up decorating his nose.

~~~


	3. Give the Devil his Due

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taxes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one goes out to [](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/PaucaFideliter/profile)[](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/PaucaFideliter/)**PaucaFideliter** who said she'd be happy to watch them do their taxes. I happen to have a little experience with taxes and same sex marriage, so... hope you like it!

~~~

Sam slams the pencil down on the table. He's dealt with red tape and bureaucracy before, but this is absolutely ridiculous.

"What's the matter?" Cas asks, setting down the mug of coffee he'd brought out for Sam.

Gratefully accepting the mug and taking a drink, Sam rolls his eyes. "Taxes. This is absolutely ridiculous, Cas, why did you have to go and have Charlie set you up as a real person?"

Cas shrugs. "She suggested it. Apparently she has several identities and finds it easier to do mundane things like find apartments and shop for groceries."

 _Shop for groceries?_ Sam bangs his head down on the table. "But why did you have to marry into the family? Couldn't you have just made yourself a long-lost brother? Why fake a marriage license?"

He's only a little smug that Cas's fake marriage license is with _him_ and not Dean, even though he knows it's because Dean Winchester is officially dead three times over. 

"It seemed the easiest way to choose Winchester as my last name. Also Charlie seemed to find it amusing."

 _Ha. Wonder how amusing she finds it now,_ Sam thinks, grinning, because she probably finds it hilarious. 

It's not the first time he's done taxes – he tried to be an upstanding citizen at Stanford, and even for a few years afterward, but the apocalypse really puts things into perspective, and giving Caesar what was his was fairly low down on the list.

He harasses Charlie about it, calling her to complain about her choice of fake documents for Cas, but she just says, "You love it," and hangs up on him. He texts her back that he hopes she falls in love and gets married so she can share his pain. 

She sends him a couple of useful links and he takes the three hour trip to the Barnes and Noble in Darby to get a personal taxes for idiots book, and a couple more not designed for idiots.

He gets Cas's taxes in the mail by April 15th, mostly happy that he got it done, and that they don't have to pay anything. He almost wants to frame the twenty-six dollar refund check when they get it.

When the Supreme Court ruling comes down a few years later, making them married in Kansas and every other state, meaning a single set of taxes for the rest of his life, Sam celebrates by burning the tax books in a bonfire and sitting outside as it burns down, staring up at the stars, leaning back on Dean and holding Cas's hand.

Charlie celebrates by sending a fake marriage license for all three of them. Cas frames it and hangs it on the wall.

~~~


	4. Chicken Soup for the Fallen Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas gets sick and is a terrible patient.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one for [](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/notsotameimpala/profile)[**notsotameimpala**](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/notsotameimpala/) who requested Cas being sick and the brothers taking after him.

~~~

Satan. It's the only answer.

"Satan did not invent the flu, Cas," Sam says, his tone warm but amused. "You'll get over this. Keep trying to drink the broth."

The smell of the broth makes Cas want to eject everything inside him from his throat to his hips, and then see if maybe he can rip his nasal cavity out so he can't smell it either.

"Roll over," Dean says, and Cas whines at him. Everything hurts and rolling over is an impossibility.

"Come on," Sam says, pushing on Cas's shoulder. Cas rolls over at the Winchesters' hands and complains about it the whole way. Sam chuckles fondly, but Dean is silent. Probably because he had the flu two days ago and it's his fault Cas is sick. Sam never gets sick, and that just goes to prove Cas's theory that the flu is from Satan.

"Shhh," Sam says, mercifully moving the pugnacious broth across the room and away from the vicinity of Cas's olfactory senses. "Let Dean rub your back. It'll make you feel better, I promise."

Cas is fairly certain that he will never feel better, and it makes him think about going back to the cage to give Lucifer a piece of his mind, but lucky for his brother, he's getting sleepy. The drowsiness stealing over him like a blanket is welcome, and Dean's hands on his back seem to press the sleepiness right down into his skin.

"That's good, Cas," Sam says, "you should rest."

Sam is warm, and Cas throws an arm over him to keep him close, the body heat soothing. Cas doesn't even let him get comfortable, just pulls him in by his hips and grins as he flails, trying to settle himself into Cas's arms. 

"Hmm mmph," Cas says, and Dean laughs this time. 

"Yeah, Cas, you do that," Dean says, and pushes himself tight into Cas's other side, still passing his hand over Cas's back with firm strokes. The warmth of the brothers seeps into his bones and when sleep finally takes him, all he can think of is how at least if he's going to die, he'll die with their hands on him.

~~~


	5. Sand Between Our Toes (5 Times the Boys Took Cas to the Beach)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what it says on the tin. For ayrdaomei, who gave me a fantastic prompt that... brought more to the forefront than I expected. <333

~~~

1\. Atlantic City, New Jersey.

When they were kids, Atlantic City was Dean's favorite place. And not even because he liked it that much, but because Sammy had such a fun time he didn't stop smiling for a week. He gave Dean hugs out of nowhere for two days afterward.

Sam's still in love with the boardwalk – got a grin a mile wide, eating his cotton candy, but Cas is wearing a look of barely concealed awe. He hasn't tried any of the food yet, though he's been wandering around with his nose in the air, sniffing everything. Dean's determined to get him to try taffy at least, and probably a corndog and maybe a pretzel. 

They wander the boardwalk down toward the rides, trying a few to see what Cas might like. He likes _everything_ , so they end up blowing most of the cash they'd won in the casinos on stupid rides and horrible food, and the smiles on Sam and Cas's faces are enough to put this place permanently on his list of favorite beaches, despite the weird lack of women in bikinis. 

It isn't until they're back in the bunker that Cas seems to realize they didn't actually get into the water and says, "But what about the sand? I thought going to the beach was about getting sand between your toes?"

~~~

2\. Cannon Beach, Oregon.

After putting down a nasty poltergeist in Seaside, Oregon, Sam insists they take Highway 101 down the coast, with no explanation, though Dean never complains about driving along the water. There are a lot of pretty views, and when they get just outside a little town called Cannon Beach, Sam pulls out his phone and starts giving Dean directions.

It's late September, so the cute little coast town looks a little abandoned, the summer traffic all but left for the season. Sam takes them down to a park, and as soon as he does, Dean knows why he did.

"That's Haystack Rock," Sam says, and Dean crows his delight, spooking Cas.

"The Goonies, man," Dean says. "That's totally the treasure cave from the Goonies!"

"We can walk out to it if it's low tide," Sam says, rolling up his jeans and taking off his socks and shoes as Dean parks the car. 

They wander out toward the huge rock with their jeans rolled up to their knees like idiots, bare feet sinking into the wet sand. Cas doesn't seem to like the sensation, but he keeps going, probably because Sam's out in front of them, stalking out to the monolith with his long freaking legs, making no effort to slow down for Cas's sake.

It's not quite low tide, so they're only halfway to the rock when they hit water, and that slows Sam down a bit. He finally looks back at them, and, noticing Cas's distress, jogs back. 

"Here," Sam says, offering his back to Cas and bending down, "Jump on."

Cas climbs on his back and Sam hoists him up, carrying him easily as he follows the tide out to the rock. Dean snaps a picture, Cas and Sam and the sun low in the sky, haloing Haystack Rock in the background.

~~~

3\. Port St. Lucie, Florida.

It's weird, Dean thinks, to be looking out over water in Florida and have the sunrise behind you. Beautiful, but weird.

He doesn't really like Florida. Sure, he's spent a few Marches in Miami Beach, living it up with the students on spring break, but that's not what most of Florida is about. This side of Florida is old and tame and gives Dean the heebie jeebies. These people are just waiting to become their next hunt, not even noticing when it's their time to go.

But he can't deny it's beautiful, looking out over the porch, strong breeze ruffling his hair. As he takes in the morning air, content to simply let himself drift with no responsibilities or cares, he sees Sam swim by. He's doing laps, his exercise of choice since his back started giving him trouble after he ran. He's a graceful swimmer, long strokes and a strong kick, moving through the water with a strange ease. 

Dean can swim, doesn't even mind doing it, if it's necessary or the water is warm, but Sam loves it. There's something soothing about the water, too, Dean thinks, because Sam is always more settled after, more balanced and comfortable in his own skin.

Cas can swim too, though he doesn't like to. He likes to be in the water – more than Dean, anyway – but he doesn't like to exert himself. He'll float all day in the waves, but getting from the dock to his favorite floating place involves awkward mix of breast stroke and doggie paddling and usually makes Cas disgruntled.

He'll often go out with Sam, floating or treading while Sam does his laps, and then let Sam haul him back into the dock. They both come out smiling, so Dean just smiles with them and makes sure to have a stack of fluffy towels and a snack ready.

Florida has been weirdly good to them. It's relaxed and stress-free in a way they never are, even between hunts. Dean picks oranges and grapefruit from the grove in the front yard and squeezes them for breakfast every morning. Sam swims, Cas floats. Dean cooks. 

Cas comes streaking past him, up late this morning, and, as per usual with Cas, has timed his entry perfectly so his cannonball lands just to the side of Sam, knocking him out of his lane. 

Sam comes up laughing, dunking Cas twice before hauling him out to his regular floating spot and returning to his laps. Dean doesn't think they could settle here, but he's pretty sure when they do finally retire to the country, they're going to have to be on water of some sort. The idea that they might retire is a funny one, even though Sam's back is getting trickier and Dean's knees are starting to be a detriment if they have to hunt in rainy weather. Dean's always thought they were going to die at this gig, but they're better as a team these days, less reckless and more thoughtful and organized, and maybe, just maybe, they'll make it to the day they finally hang up their boots.

Splashing brings him out of his thoughts, and he turns away from Sam and Cas playing like little kids to go foraging for fresh citrus.

~~~

4\. Venice Beach, California.

Something about being back in California makes Dean nervous. They don't head there often, and Dean has always tried to steer them away from cases too close to Sam's college stomping grounds. 

If he's honest with himself, which he really, _really_ hates to be, it's because of the look on Sam's face right now. He looks happy, comfortable… at home. He looks like Dean feels when he's behind the wheel of the Impala.

Sam's wandering along the paths, chatting with the art vendors, buying lemonade and cheap lighters and sunglasses for Cas, looking like he belongs here. It makes Dean's heart ache.

Cas hangs back as Sam picks over the jewelry at one of the vendors set up on a card table along the walking path, probably looking for hair ties, since he's started wearing it long enough to braid. 

"Everything okay?"

Dean nods, coming to a stop so they don't get close enough for Sam's freaky good hearing. "He looks good in the sun."

Cas hums his agreement. "Is that bad?"

Dean shrugs. "I just wonder if I should've left him here. Let him have his white picket fence."

"There were larger forces at work, Dean. He would never have been able to have that life."

That doesn't make it any better. Dean's overwhelmed with regret for Sam's lost potential. "He deserves better than what he got."

Every once in a while, some small part of old angel Cas comes out, and it's simultaneously scary and thrilling. When Cas grips his forearms firmly and squeezes, Dean can't help the tiny tremor that goes down his spine. "Dean Winchester, you are not a consolation prize." 

They have a few cues now, shortcuts to make things easier and quicker between them, especially with sex, and when Cas's grip on Dean's forearms shifts down to his hands, Dean calms immediately, his mind going blank and waiting for Cas's instructions. "You are worthy, Dean Winchester. You deserve love and happiness and that in no way impedes your brother's happiness. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Dean answers immediately. It's not as simple as that, though, and there's enough dishonesty in his answer to make him flinch. 

"Kiss me," Cas says, and Dean does, taking one step forward to bring their bodies in contact before pressing their lips firmly together. Cas extracts his hands from Dean's and puts them on Dean's face, and Dean's mind goes blank again, the simple gesture reminding him he is loved, letting his doubts settle. 

When Cas finally releases him, Dean feels clearer, the sadness and regret drained out of him. He takes a deep breath and mentally shakes himself, a trick Cas taught him to bring him up out of the headspace quickly when he needs to. "Better?" Cas asks.

Dean looks around for Sam, finding him sitting in the sand on the beach, leaning back on his elbows and watching them with a grin on his face. He pats the sand next to him, and Dean takes another deep breath and lets it out. "Better."

~~~

5\. Chincoteague, Virginia.

Cas wants a pony. 

Sam's in this mostly for the novelty of the place and the salt water taffy, but Cas, he's here for the ponies, and he wants one.

"We have nowhere to put a pony, Cas," Dean reminds him, because they don't, and the last thing they need in the bunker is another animal. Sam has only just trained the puppy they got after Crash died a couple years ago, and Dean has finally cleaned the bunker enough to stop sneezing from Cas's kitten escapade last month, and while Dean likes their pet snake Oscar, he's still a little leery of it. That's more than enough animal life for one bunker.

"But I want one," Cas argues, and while Cas's puppy eyes are nearly as lethal as Sam's, Dean's not going to give in on this.

"Help me out here," he says, smacking Sam on the arm.

"Cas, we have no facilities to take care of a pony. If you want horses, we'll have to move somewhere we can take care of them."

Dean's breath catches. They've talked about leaving the bunker a few times, mostly flights of fancy, but they're getting too old for hard-core hunting, and more often then not, they're sending out younger hunters to take on creatures, armed with Sam's research and Dean's modified weaponry. 

Krissy and Josephine are in the bunker right now, babysitting Rocket and making use of Cas's Enochian translations of several spellbooks they brought back from a coven they hunted a couple of years ago.

"Fine," Cas says, pouting as he turns to the ocean, watching the ponies swim for the far island. "But when we have the space, you are buying me a pony."

Sam smirks at Dean over the top of Cas's head, and Dean smiles back. Sam may think he's won the battle, but Cas never lets this sort of thing go, and Dean has a feeling their retirement home is going to end up being on a dude ranch somewhere.

~~~

+1 Time Cas Took the Boys to a Beach

~~~

6\. Longville, Minnesota.

The drive is nice. Dean likes driving, but he thinks this is a particularly nice drive. It's well forested, the roads are curvy and keep him on his toes, and it's late, so there's not too much traffic, either.

"Up there," Cas says. "Turn right."

There's an unpaved, sandy area in front of the cabin Cas has found that seems to be where they should leave the car, so Dean puts her in park and turns her off. As soon as the rumble of her engine stops, Sam wakes up with a deep breath and a mumbled, "We there?"

"Yeah," Dean answers, getting out to grab their duffels from the trunk. He has no idea how Cas found this place, but he's surprisingly good at squatting, so Dean doesn't question it – at least until he steps foot into the cabin. 

The lack of dust makes Dean nervous. The cabin's in really good shape for a place they're intending to squat in for a week or more. There's a big king bed in the main bedroom and the covers don't even smell musty. 

"Cas, you're sure about this?" Dean asks. He's never asked before – Cas has some sixth sense as to when houses have been abandoned – but this one feels too clean, too almost-lived-in.

"I'm sure, Dean."

"The owner didn't die last week, did he? We're not going to be sleeping on the bed where some old guy died, are we?"

Sam wanders in then, brushing past Dean and into the bedroom, and flops onto the bed, face first. Looks like he's sleeping on the deathbed, then. He and Cas get Sam undressed, a dance they've perfected over the last twenty-five years, and Cas kisses Dean gently good night before crawling in next to Sam, pushing him to the far side of the bed so Dean can crawl in behind Cas and sandwich him between them.

When Dean wakes the next morning, he's alone in the bed. He stretches out and listens, trying to see if he can tell if Sam and Cas are somewhere in the cabin. It's pleasantly quiet, so they must be out for a morning hike or something.

He putters around the kitchen while he waits for them, debating breakfast and making coffee instead. He grabs a cup and takes a look around the cabin to see what kind of place they've squatted in for the week.

Wandering through the rooms, he finds another bedroom with a smaller bed, an office with a big desk and lots of bookshelves, a large pantry, and connected to that, a mud room leading to a back door. When he opens it, he nearly drops his mug in surprise. There's a beachfront, sandy and beautiful peeking out from between the trees on either side, and Cas is floating happily a hundred feet out or so. Sam's nowhere to be seen, but the lake is huge – Dean can't even see the far side of it. If he knows Sam, he's swimming the length of it, just to see how big it is.

"Cas!" Dean calls, knowing Cas won't be able to hear him. He hesitates for half a second, more ingrained reticence than any real resistance, and sets his mug down, yanking off his t-shirt as he starts to sprint for the water.

He knows it's best to go in all at once and get the shock over with, so he dives as soon as it's deep enough, staying under until his lungs hurt. When he finally breaks the surface, he's swum past and to the side of Cas, so he stealthily swims back in. Cas feels him before he gets close enough to dunk, though, and goes from floating carelessly to treading defensively. 

"Nice digs, Cas," Dean says. "What lake is this?"

"Blackwater Lake," Cas says, grinning wide enough to smooth out the wrinkles around his mouth. Dean leans in to kiss him.

"How far out is Sammy?"

"Oh, not that far," Cas says, shoving away from Dean and backpeddling a little. Dean takes a deep breath, knowing what's coming, trying to turn around but not quick enough for his little brother. 

He comes up a couple seconds later gasping for air – dunking always leaves him short on breath, even if he's prepared for it – and thrashing, trying to catch Sam. 

"Do you like it?" Sam asks, grabbing Dean's flailing arms and swinging him around to face the house on the beach. Now that he's looking, there are a couple of outbuildings too, three sheds and a half-sized barn.

"Yeah," Dean says after a minute. "Good location, cozy house."

"I thought you could convert the largest shed into a garage," Cas says. "The winters here can be harsh."

Dean blinks.

"Wait." He looks around the lake. The property has neighbors, but not for more than a half-mile downstream, and both of those places look like summer houses. "Wait," he says again. "Is this… did you…"

"Yes, Dean," Cas says. "This place is ours, if you like it."

Dean takes a more critical look at the place, seeing the cozy house, maybe too small for them after the bunker, but maybe not. A few outbuildings for the necessary hunting activities that he knows won't stop just because they say they've retired, a shed big enough for the Impala, a barn for… What do they need a barn for?

"Are you thinking about getting chickens?" Dean asks, and unexpectedly, Cas turns an obstinate look on him. 

"No," Cas says, and then seems to reconsider. "Well, maybe. But they will have to share with the pony Sam's going to buy me."

Sam's face is priceless, wide open in disbelief, and Dean pulls him in for a kiss. "You did promise," he says, raising an eyebrow when Sam turns his betrayed look on him. "What? You did." 

Dean stops pushing his luck and turns back for shore, thinking about how maybe a cow wouldn't be too much trouble, if they already had a pony, and then they could have fresh milk along with their fresh eggs. Then he remembers that he doesn't know a damn thing about farming and decides to leave the animal wrangling to Cas. Considering the size of the pantry, though, he might look up what kind of vegetables make good pickles and a jam recipe or two.

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to choose five beaches I've been to and loved, and that complicated this a bit; my own feelings are mixed up in here, but I think it's a fair idea of what the boys might have got up to in those places. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Putting these in chapters because they're really, really short and I just need to write a little scene sometimes. No idea how many there will be, but prompt if there's something in particular you want to see.


End file.
